Noise, chaos, baths in the Ganges, overwhelming poverty, the ubiquitous spirit of Bollywood, inquiring looks from men, and cows strolling down the street. The India I know from pictures and stories is within reach. Nothing really surprises me. I find it hard here to be a photographer and a traveller. I am not even trying.

It seems that I am leaving India with no regrets. But on the day of departure some kind of sadness appears. I realise I am going to miss the simple pleasures of everyday life: chai with an indescribable amount of sugar, yogic routine from dusk to dawn, the view from my window. Somehow India rooted in me. How? I do not know. I do not have time to figure it out now. Nepal is waiting just around the corner. This will be my last month in Asia.